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5:44 p.m. - 2002-11-20 Words are fucking powerful. It would do me well to realize exactly how powerful sometimes. I have the tendency to be a little reckless with them at times, and I also have the ability to sharpen them into razor blades that cut deep and leave scars. Reckless and hurtful. I don�t want to wield it anymore, it is just destructive. I used to have recurring nightmares about bears, or my siblings being threatened by them. I lived in rural Canada where bears were an actuality of life. In my dreams they seemed to lurk and imposed fear but never really chase or harm physically. My mom looked it up in a Native dream book and found that dreaming of being pursued by bears signified being afraid of your personal power. It made sense, because even if the mystical interpretation is just a fairy tale, my biggest fear has always been hurting the people I love the most. I have visited that idea many times here, and many more times in my head. I don�t realize how abrasive I can be sometimes until it is too late, and when tempered with my friendliness and humor and whatever attractive qualities I possess, it is even more hurtful when I lash out in anger with sharp words and inexplicable intensity. People are afraid of me because of it. People are careful not to set my fuse or cross me in certain situations, and while this can be conducive to me getting my way, it is not something that I wish for. That said, I use it to my advantage without a doubt. I�m a bully. I have become more aware, and addressed with a lot of success, some of the more obtuse behavior I tend to exhibit over the years, and the better regulation of testosterone that comes with age has toned down a lot of the aggressiveness, but the more subtle aspects have been all but lost on me. People agreeing with me has meant that they respect my opinion instead of them having a slight fear of disagreeing or a less than slight dislike of my reaction to disagreement. Time for me to wake up and cut it out, because being right by use of intimidation is bullshit. In other news, I changed my cell phone service and thus had to get a new phone. Looking the danger of being an old fart right in the eyes I just want to say that I hate these new teeny little pieces of shit. My old phone felt like a phone, this one is about the size of a garage door opener and is easy to lose, hard to dial or hold, and impossible to do the ol neck-piece/shoulder wedge while using your hands for other things. This defeats the whole purpose of getting the new service, because now that I have unlimited minutes, I am unable to masturbate to phone sex while driving. I guess I have to get a head set and shit. Fucking AT&T. See how they get you?
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